Red Scales
by Extraho
Summary: The final battle is over and Galbatorix is dead. everyone are enjoying the celebrations, until a furious Red Rider - Murtagh - shows up, and he is angry. Very angry, and it is Eragons fault. M/E, incest mpreg. Very adult, don't read if it's not your thing


The last battle was over and Galbadorix was dead, and so were all of his Shades. The sun had risen from its hiding spot and was flooding the battlefield. For the past hours they had – with the help of Elvin magicians found all the wounded and identified the dead. Many had mortal injuries and needed magical healing, but many only had shallow cuts that could be bound and attended to later.

It was almost midday before anyone could sit down and rest. The women that had not fought had prepared food while the children and elders had built fires, and put up tents and colourful decorations. They were in the middle of their festives when someone shouted;

"Look!! The Red Rider!!!" it was Murtagh, who had fought on the dark side. People were so shocked and in awe that no one reacted to the sight of the furious rider. Thorn landed on the ground, making the earth shake and dirt spray. The male dragon was spitting flames in his fury.

Murtagh was no better as his magic had become visible on his skin. Red ripples swam on his fire and sun bronzed skin. The red rider was shouting angrily in a language one Eragon understood. Murtagh had become one with his dragon. Red scaled covered parts of his armsm face and chest. They could see them on his legs and back as well through the tearing in his clothes.

Though, Eragon, as everyone else, was still not moving his eyes away from the stunning sight. Murtagh jumped off Thorn's back and pushed through the crowd. Finally it seemed like people were realising what was happening and moved to stop the furious rider, but Murtagh just flicked his wrist and the offending frown flew backwards. A few flicks of the wrists later Murtagh was standing in front of Eragon and the king and his daughter. The king and his daughter were both armed and ready to attach, but Eragon was standing with his head bowed in submission and apology.

The people were awed at the Red riders power, as it surpassed the blue riders' by far, as far as they knew. It even surpassed anything they had seen from Galbatorix. Not even he had been able to simply will his magic without using the traditional spells. They watched in intrest as their king and princess drew their swords, but Eragon remained silent. The strange angry words flowing from the Red Riders lips became familiar.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again – " he slipped back into the ancient tongue. Eragon eyes were misted by tears and Murtaghs voice dropped to a hissing sound.

Seing Eragon with his head bowed in submission and sadness broke Murtaghs anger and replaced it with fear, love and relief. A tear slipped down Eragons chin and Murtagh pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Don't scare me like that again. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." He whispered in a rough voice, tears also threatening to fall.

Thorn had been spitting spark and nipping at Saphira, but they as well calmed down. Saphira ducked her head and rubbed against Thorn, knowing what they did had been stupid and suicidal. Thorn huffed and gently pushed Saphira to the ground, then laying down, curling himself around the smaller female dragon, tucking her head under his, with his tail covering her belly.

"I'm sorry." Eragon sobbed, having realised how close he was to losing everything he had dreamed of.

"Promise me." Murtagh growled. "To never to anything of the like again."

"Promise." Eragon whispered. Murtagh growled low in his throat. Eragon curled himself into Murtaghs embrace, tucking his head under his chin, but Murtagh pulled his chin up roughly. Wide and teary brown eyes met furious, but shiny black.

"I promise." Eragon said again, louder. Murtagh sighed and ducked his head, his lips claiming Eragons. The king gasped loudly and murmurs broke out through the crowd.

Eragon mewled softly into the kiss. Murtagh growled in return and tightened his grip around Eragons still slim waist. Eragon clawed weakly at Murtagh chest and murtagh pulled away, making Eragon whimper unhappily.

Murtagh leaned his forehead against Eragons' breathing deeply as the scales in his body began retreat as his primal self settled. Eragon nearly purred feeling the sword-roughened hands stroking his sides. Murtagh scowled unhappily as he found a bruise on Eragons hip. Thoroughly he checked every inch of Eragon for injury, finding none he fell to his knees and put his chin against Eragons belly. After a few seconds he wrapped his arms around his waist and felt slim fingers run through his hair.

Becoming aware of their audience, Murtagh growled, feeling his scales resurface. With a huff he swept Eragon into his arms, making the younger rider squeak in surprise, but settle comfortably in his brothers arms as he was carried towards the two cuddling dragons.

Thorn unwrapped himself from Saphira and let Murtagh settle the blue rider on his back before jumping up behind him and flying off, Saphira by their side.

"What happened?" the princess asked.

"Well," one of the Elvin healer said. "The red rider was obviously angry from the blue rider taking a dangerous risk in his condition."

"What condition?" she snapped. "He seemed fine."

"He is carrying a child, Murtaghs child if a am not mistaken."

Thousands of miles north Murtagh settled Eragon on the bed in the master suite in his castle. He pulled off the remains of his torn and bloody shirt and tossed in on the floor, before he started undressing Eragon. The small teen wiggled under Murtaghs thouch, arching into his hands.

"I love you so much it bloody well hurts." Murtagh breathed

"We're married and you put a child in me. I think it's set in stone that you do, now I want you inside me." Eragon mewled. He felt it wasn't really nessesary to mention that he had wanted Murtagh inside him for the past hour, but, alas, it was hard doing it on a dragon's back. Murtagh just grinned. "It's all your fault that I'm in this state anyway!"

"Pregnant or in heat?" Murtagh asked cheekily. He was still a bit shaky from watching Eragon drop himself from Saphira and onto Galbatorix's dragon, only just catching a hold of his tail. He needed to be reassured. To feel Eragon around him, to be in him.

"Both you- ah" he gasped as Murtagh ghosted his hands over Eragon's soft muscled abs. although the baby was not showing too much yet, his body had started to change to adapt to it's new situation. Already his hips were just a little wider and a little rounder. It was beautiful.

"Tell me. What did you do for release while you were all alone?" he whispered huskily.

"I…ah…just wanked, and.. I…"

"And…?"

"Oh…"

"And…" he said more pressingly while teasing his opening with his fingertips

"… I fingered myself." Murtagh moaned at the mental image Eragon's words caused to flood his mind. He pulled away from the panting man and sat on his knees.

"Do it." Eragon didn't need to be told twice. He was so desperate to be filled he would do anything. Slowly he slipped two slick fingers into his own heat and soon he was fucking himself in earnest on his own fingers. Murtagh slapped away his hand and replaced it with his own. Smoothly he stroked the small sensitive nub inside him until he was sweating and shaking uncontrollably.

Murtagh finally deemed him ready and rid himself of his own ripped trousers. He teased Eragon for a bit by stroking his length along the crack of his arse, but finally he breached the tight ring of muscle.

With his husband seated deep within himself he sighed contently. Finally. Those two weeks since he had last seen Murtagh had been sheer hell. That was when he had told him about the baby, knowing it would be the last time he saw him before the battle.

For the first time their coupling was not made in hurry or sexual desperation. It was with the kind of gentle love you could only get from someone who truly and completely loved you. It was slow, intense and passionate, a celebration. Light and gentle touches drove them closer to completion as the soft and broken moans transformed into ghostly echoes that filled the cool air of the bedroom.

Murtagh lifted Eragon's leg to rest on his shoulder as he let himself be pulled in deeper by gravity. The smaller man arched his back to a breaking point and he clung to his mate with all his might. Murtagh stifled a moan by biting his mate's claiming mark at the nape of his neck again and enjoyed the friction of his body wrapped around him and the gentle stroking on the back of his thighs. Though most of all, he loved the feel of his mate's silken wall contracting around him, and he wanted that now.

Eragon gasped for air when Murtagh slammed into him that last time. His nails dug themselves into Murtagh's biceps as his body contracted in pleasure. He sighed contently as Murtagh's warmth filled him and caressed his spine from within.

Gently Murtagh started to pull out of the slick heat, but was stopped by a sleepy Eragon. Murtagh smiled gently and covered their lower halves with a thick silk sheet. Eragon let his fingers run through the inky strands of Murtagh's hair. His rough chin felt good on his chest. Oh God he was tired. Who knew emotions could be so draining? Even more than battling evil kings.


End file.
